Strong and Streetwise
by Divinely Ethereal
Summary: Hwoarang is just a kid, strong and streetwise,but a kid all the same. Everything comes to a head when he sees something no kid should ever see, and is then approached by a stranger with a mysterious past....
1. Chapter 1: A Preteen's Enormous Ego

**Strong and Streetwise**

_**A/N: I do not own Tekken. This is my second fic; a tribute to Hwoarang.**_

**Chapter I: A Preteen's Enormous Ego**

_Chinatown, around 6:00 pm_

Chinatown. A one-time tourist attraction in Seoul during the summer. But the notoriously high crime level seemed to have driven away most of the tourists lately. And now it was fall, where crime would be at its peak.

The general atmosphere was particularly subdued this evening. The few people still out on the streets were hurrying around their business,avoiding eye contact with strangers; this was a golden rule in Chinatown. To the onlooker, it was as if the entire district was bracing itself for a storm; the tension could be practically cut with a knife.

A boy could be seen walking the filthy streets of Chinatown. He was young, recently turned twelve, and seemed blissfully unaware of any impending dangers. He was strutting confidently, taking slow deliberate strides and humming tunelessly, completely at ease with his surroundings. His dishevelled appearance was not out of place. He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, which were torn at one knee, and left a few inches of ankle exposed, a baggy T-shirt which gave his lean frame a bulky look, and white sneakers with torn soles. He also had a backpack slung across one shoulder.

He was known on the streets as Hwoarang, although that was not his true name. In fact, he had no idea what his legal name had been before he had acquired this name. Nor did he know the identity of his biological parents, but that was the least of his concerns now.

XXXXXXX

Hwoarang smirked with satisfaction at the way things had transpired. He had delivered all his rounds in record time and had spent the better part of the day swindling extra cash. He rummaged in his pocket for today's prize and examined the shiny gold locket he had come to possess when he had " bumped" into a woman at the marketplace. He knew it would sell well on the black market. His smirk grew wider. This had been cake to him; the only reason he had done it was to actually see if anyone would be smart enough to catch him. No such luck today.

Running bump-and-swipes, picking pockets , and all the like was an inferior career for someone of his calibre, Hwoarang knew, especially since the real income came from distributing drugs all over town. His master, Kim, was a man of devious cunning. He used boys armed with backpacks to do his dirty work, as schoolchildren seemed inconspicuous enough. Hwoarang was currently a favourite; he had been praised many times by Kim, and the rest of the boys looked up to him. For Hwoarang himself, it was all about the rush of adrenaline he experienced as he broke a hundred laws, under the very noses of the police. Once, he recalled, he had passed a patrol car on his way to deliver his stack, and the two cops on duty had stopped him to make small talk, with no means of knowing that he had had around five pounds of cocaine in his innocent-looking backpack. Hwoarang had played along, bought them their morning coffee, even.

"Dumbass cops. Stupid no-lifers,"Hwoarang now mused. His opinion of law enforcers was very low, as he thought that cops in general were lazy and dimwitted; he often used even more slanderous terms to describe them in the presence of his friends.

Kim, though, had not been very impressed with his little run-in with the State's agents, Hwoarang recalled, and had sternly admonished him before the others, but he was soon back in his good favour; Kim very rarely beat him, and the only time he had done so was when he had recklessly gone and sniffed some coke,"for a bet", as he had justified, flaunting his disregard for the strict regulations his master had laid out concerning drugs: That the boys were not to use them, and were not to sell them to those below the legal age.("Underage users attract cops like a flame attracts a moth," was Kim's popular tagline.)

Hwoarang now threw back his head and laughed outright, because Kim had no way of knowing that he had already bent this little rule countless times: When delivering his rounds, Hwoarang would often see the older boys, in their mid to late teens, sitting on the sidewalk, smoking pot and yearning for something stronger. He would note the multicoloured heads and the cool hairstyles of those punks, and in exchange for a few whiffs, they would give him his prize: red hair dye.

Hwoarang had always wanted attention and recognition. He did not want to end up just another nobody who could easily slip through the crowd, and he'd soon discovered that his flaming red hair was one step further towards his goal. People would often gawk at his hair, which would draw forth a satisfied smirk from him, and even some, like Kim, who would dub it "another bad dye job", were often impressed at heart.

XXXXXXX

Hwoarang now paused at the entrance to an alleyway that would lead him to Sing District, where headquarters was based. On the sidewalk were gathered, as usual, half a dozen teenage boys. They jeered and catcalled as he approached, making comments about his hair. Hwoarang grinned at them; those were dangerous bullies, he knew, but he had long since realised that they were similar to dogs; show any fear, and they bite you in a rabid frenzy. Hwoarang himself was somewhat of a bully, though he considered himself much more refined than those "junkies" and "pot heads", as he had only beaten kids who"were asking for it" or "had it coming", and more often than not , he had taken some of their possessions to keep as souvenirs, which he placed in a box and hid under his bed.

As soon as Hwoarang made the turn that placed him in his home turf of Sing District, he realised that something was wrong...very wrong...

_**A/N: This is it for now. I hope you like this image of Hwoarang, this was before Baek and tae kwon do , he'll get cooler once I enter Baek, and he'll definitely be getting cooler outfits!**_


	2. Chapter 2: Shocked

**Chapter II: Shock**

**A/N: Thanks for your interest, guys. This is going to be my last update for**

**two weeks, as I'm going on vacation to Greece, and won't be back till the **

_Sing District, Seoul_

The cocky smile slowly slid off Hwoarang's face as he began to walk the more familiar streets of Sing. His head turned this way and that, seeking friendly faces, but he saw none. It was dark, the bars should have opened and the clubs should have been overflowing with people. As it were, the bartenders and owners of the places he passed gave him strange, fearful looks, before hanging "closed" signs over their doors, and scurrying to safety. Soon, Hwoarang found himself alone.

Hwoarang tried to convince himself that everything was "cool", that it was no big deal, and that the punks and their motorcycles were staying off the streets only because of some police raid. His efforts were all in vain, as they only seemed to deepen his sense of dread. Already, alarm bells were ringing in his head.

A stray cat yowled miserably, and Hwoarang jumped. He swore loudly and bolted. He was not normally a coward, but his instincts, which had kept him alive on the streets for years, screamed at him to run. He strained his keen ears as he raced along, but all he heard was the pounding of his feet on the asphalt and the hammering of his heart. He stopped dead when he reached the antique shop.

Kim's antique shop. The facade for the headquarters of Sing District's drug operations. Hwoarang's stomach lurched feebly when he saw the front door ajar; he entered without a second thought, intending to put up a desperate fight if confronted by an intruder.

Hwoarang's eyes darted back and forth as he took in his surroundings. The entire ground floor had been trashed; tables had been upturned and the fragile antique pieces had been smashed to splinters. But the place was deserted. Hwoarang stepped over the remains of a Buddha statue and made for the stairs.

The upper floor was in a similar state of disarray, but Hwoarang felt a sense of relief wash over him upon entering the room that the boys shared.

They were there, the boys, lying on their futons, seemingly asleep, with the covers up to their chins. Hwoarang was so relieved that he did not even question the fact that it was still too early for bed. There was Seong, the second toughest kid in the district and Hwoarang's sparring was sitting in his dark corner, his back to the wall, brooding as usual. Hwoarang went up to him and gave him a playful punch in greeting. The boy merely slumped onto the floor, and it was then that Hwoarang saw the gaping wound in his chest. He recoiled in horror.

Hwoarang took a few shaky steps back, but he dared not look at the other boys, or check for confirmation underneath their covers. But he knew it in his heart; they were all dead. He silently fled the room.

Where was Kim? Amidst all the chaos and turmoil within him, that question still bore down on him like thunder. It had become apparent to him that the perpetrators of the crime had fled, so he felt safe enough to move about the house, and he eventually found his master.

Kim was in his room; Hwoarang gave a strangled cry of shock at the sight before him. The man had been strung up from the ceiling, cruelly bound so that his shoulders were dislocated. Long, thin, lethal-looking needles protruded from his body; he looked more pierced than a pincushion. Droplets of blood oozed from his empty eye sockets and joined the huge pool on the floor. The body kept swinging weakly like some grotesque dummy.

Hwoarang continued to stare up at his master's lifeless form, his mouth opening and closing, but no sound coming out. Finally, he emitted a strange moan and proceeded to run out of the room, in a strange way, with his arms bent stiffly at his sides. He did not stop until he reached his own room, where he flung himself down on the bed, curling in the fetal position. He did not hear the wail of the sirens in the distance, and he remained in that position until the police found him.

_Local Precinct_

Hwoarang was coming to. He had not recovered from the shock yet, but he had more pressing matters to tend to. He found that he was in an austere looking room, sitting on a hard-backed chair, with lights glaring at him and two officers hovering above him. One was tall and well-built and seemed intimidating. The other was of a frailer build and looked concerned. In spite of everything he had been through, Hwoarang smiled inwardly. Ah.. the Good Cop, Bad Cop Game. He was familiar with this drill from all the movies he and his friends had sneaked in to watch during weekends. He closed his eyes; those meathead cops were getting nothing out of him.

_Seoul Children Asylum_

And so it was that Hwoarang, with his reluctance to talk, and his talented performance before the child psychiatrists who assessed him, found himself confined to an asylum for mentally disturbed minors. He knew he could not be touched there. He had seen it in a movie once, where the hero plays his way into the loonybin so the cops would stop pestering him. The doctors suspected Hwoarang was of sane mind, but there was nothing they could do to make him leave. Hwoarang found that they liked to reveal the gory details of their professions."This boy watched his mother get shot by a crack dealer,"they would tell him, as though they believed this alone was enough reason to make him "spill his guts". He had made a friend though, a very pretty nurse with an angelic face, whose name was Lin, and who would give him the best meals and hold his hand and tuck him into bed. He was in love.

Hwoarang eventually lost all concept of time. He would lie in his bed for days, reliving those shocking moments, doing his best to overcome them, to banish them from his mind forever. He would even plot ways to escape from the asylum. He lost weight. The doctors and the nurses finally tired of him; even his sweetheart Lin gave up on him. Hwoarang couldn't care any less.

Then one day, one of the doctors came to see him, and Hwoarang instantly switched to "blank form". The doctor told him with great impatience that he had a visitor who was eager to talk to him and that it wasn't a cop. The doctor then left Hwoarang to his dark thoughts.

**A/N: That's it for now. Hwoarang has a mystery visitor(three guesses who...)**


	3. Chapter 3: Enter A Mysterious Man

**Chapter III: Enter A Mysterious Man**

_**A/N: I own no part of Tekken**_

_**plz people, don't hit my stories without reviewing them,**_

_**leave a comment even if it's to tell me that what I wrote**_

_**sucked. And why doesn't darling Jin's story get many **_

_**reviews? Anyway...**_

Hwoarang slouched into the cramped, dimlit room, where he immediately noticed the stranger, sitting in a dark corner, patiently awaiting his arrival. The man motioned for him to sit, and Hwoarang eased himself into a cheap plastic chair directly across from his visitor, glancing at the two orderlies who were anxiously hovering nearby. The man made another almost imperceptible gesture, and the orderlies quickly left, closing the door behind them. Now the two were alone.

Hwoarang watched his visitor with polite interest, as though he were a mildly entertaining television program. The stranger's appearance amused him: well dressed, in an immaculate beige suit. Well-groomed slightly greying hair tighed back in a neat little ponytail. Austere, slightly lined face. He sat with his right heel crossed over his left knee, and Hwoarang noticed the shiny, expensive looking loafers that he wore. Hwoarang instantly compared him to those respectable looking lawyers he saw in movies, the ones who in reality made their large fortunes defending murderers and crooks. This impression was spoiled somewhat by the wide-brimmed hat the stranger sported, as well as his strict looking face.

Hwoarang tried to appear as laid back as possible. He sat back, his feet propped up against the rickety little table between the two of them, a deliberate attempt at outright rudeness. He did not like the scorching look he received in return, and liked it even less when the tense silence continued to stretch between them. Finally, he decided that it was safe for him to make the first move. " So, you gonna be my lawyer?" His voice was hoarse from disuse.

The stranger cleared his throat, and then responded in a clipped, no-nonsense tone," What have you done, boy?"

Hwoarang did not answer immediately, but proceeded to examine with feigned interest the fingers of his right hand. Due to his long confinement, they now glowed palely in the dim light. Finally, he replied," Who said I've done anything?" He could barely keep irritation out of his voice.

The man merely shrugged, before saying," Requesting a lawyer is, more often than not, an admission of guilt. Naturally, I should assume that you have gotten into some sort of trouble."

Hwoarang let out a derisive snort and said," Well, you just assumed wrong, 'cuz that's not why they're keeping me locked up here!" His voice had an edge to it, and that worried him; he did not understand why this man's presence was suddenly affecting his cool-headedness; perhaps it had something to do with that knowing look in his eyes.

" Strange," the man went on with a slight sneer. " I also assumed that you walked into this place with your own free will."

Hwoarang ignored this, concentrating instead on his sneakered feet. The man uncrossed his legs, leaned towards him and whispered confidentially," Being the first witness on a crimescene doesn't necessarily incriminate you, but what you and your little friends have been doing for a living certainly does."

Hwoarang flinched as those words hit home. Nobody, as far as he knew, not the most perseverent police detective, not even the sleaziest defense lawyer, had the slightest clue that children were involved in Sing District's drug operations. It had been something that had constantly baffled the Seoul PD, the way drugs seemed to circulate so freely, and it had been traditionally one of the district's darkest and most well-kept secrets. How in the world did this man know?

Hwoarang mustered all his strength and willed himself to remain composed. He leaned back, resuming his insolent lounging, and said with forced calm," I don't mean to be rude,"(rudeness was implied in every syllable), " but who the _hell _are you and what the _hell_ do you want from me?"

The man frowned at him," Someone needs to teach you manners, boy. My name is Baek Do San, and I'm a military instructor at an army base on the coast, though I'm currently on leave."

Hwoarang laughed. "A military instructor, huh? What, you gonna draft me into the army? No wait! Are you sure they're not kicking you out 'cuz you're getting too old?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

The man watched him laugh, his arms folded, his expression unfathomable. Hwoarang abruptly sobered up and asked, with a wary look on his face," So why did you come to this hellhole, really?"

Baek Do San stirred in his seat before replying, " You have qualities that interest me. You've seen things no child should, and as crude and undisciplined as you are, you've handled yourself well. I can pull you out of this... predicament," he finished, gesturing around the room.

Hwoarang digested this in silence. Then he responded, with some animosity, " I really don't buy this crap. I mean, it's no big deal, really, things like this happen all over the place, and loads of people turn out okay, so why me?" He stared intensely into the man's eyes, as though determined to put him in a hypnotic state. " You know _way_ too much, so who the hell are you, really?" He held the man's gaze as he said this, intent on catching him lying.

Baek Do San returned Hwoarang's gaze, in a way that made the preteen feel that he was being X-rayed. "You're wiser than you look, boy. How old are you?"

" Old enough to be known by my damn name!" he shot back.

"And what would that be?"

He hesitated. " Hwoarang," he finally said, feeling that the man probably knew it already.

"Well , Hwoarang, if you insist on mistrusting me, then there is something you will need to see."

And without further ado, Baek removed his jacket, undid the buttons of his shirt and turned his back on Hwoarang, who gasped at the intricate design tattooed on the man's back. "Looks familiar?" Baek asked with a dry smile.

"Where did you get that? You.. you _actually_ used to be a _gangster_?" Hwoarang was not sure why he found this so shocking, but he had instantly recognised the design as the same one his late Master Kim had had. _That explains a lot though_, he thought,_ holy crap!_ " So you knew Master Kim?"

" _Gangster?_ Is that the term for it nowadays? How crude! I was a rogue once, but I grew out of my ways; you're the first one to see this tattoo in almost thirteen years. Yes, I knew your Master Kim; I owe him a life debt. I sought you out, his favourite boy, and offered you a home, mainly to repay my debt. Now come, unless you'd rather rot here." He replaced his shirt and jacket and stormed out of the room, with an incredulous Hwoarang at his heels.

Baek Do San had finished signing the official papers, and now they were in the asylum's parking lot, the cool night air stinging Hwoarang's face for the first time in months. Hwoarang gasped as they stopped before a magnificent, sleek black motorcycle." Wow, I thought we're gonna be leaving in a limo or something, but, man, this is _way_ cooler!"

Baek smiled slightly at the boy's delight, stuffed his hat out of sight, replaced it with a helmet and threw one over to Hwoarang. He then mounted gracefully and beckoned for Hwoarang to do the same. " Hold on tightly; I never go slowly." Hwoarang did, as the engine roared to life and Baek kicked off rather violently. Hwoarang clung to him as they raced at breakneck speed, relishing the feel of the wind whipping his face, as his flaming red hair flew behind him. His spirits soared all of a sudden, and he let out a loud whoop of joy at his freedom. Surely what was in store for him could not be worse than what he had just left behind.

_**A/N: I felt this was longer than the 1st 2 Chaps. You were right CII, the visitor WAS Baek, so cheers for you!**_


	4. Chapter 4: Out And About

**Chapter IV: Out And About**

_**A/N: I own Tekken...in another life.**_

_**Thank you so much for your support, **_

_**faithful reviewers, it means the world to me!**_

" Care for a bite?"

Hwoarang was jolted out of his thoughts just in time to register his surroundings: Baek was skilfully manoeuvering the bike down the narrow streets of Chinatown. Hwoarang gritted his teeth. Baek Do San had rescued him from the asylum mere minutes ago; what was he playing at now, bringing him so close to where it had all happened?

But Hwoarang's hunger outweighed his misgivings. " Uh-huh," he replied, not caring where they stopped to eat.

They eventually pulled over in front of a quiet Chinese restaurant. In contrast, the club beside it was overflowing with people, and the blast of the music issuing from it was deafening.

" Hello there, mister," Hwoarang said as Baek made to enter the restaurant. " You can't just leave this thing lying around here," he indicated the bike. " This is Chinatown, in case you haven't noticed."

" Blessed as I am with extraordinary powers of perception, I did indeed notice," Baek replied, barely sparing Hwoarang a backward glance. Hwoarang blinked; he had never met anyone who could match him in wit and sarcasm the way Baek did. Shrugging the whole thing off, he followed his new master inside.

The interior was small and dimlit, though it completely muffled the noise outside. Baek and Hwoarang occupied a table at the far corner. When their orders arrived, Hwoarang ravenously devoured his food, ignoring the look of distaste Baek kept giving him.

" The way you eat is completely lacking in manners," Baek began with great disapproval.

Hwoarang's mouth was packed to the point of explosion. He swallowed with difficulty and replied," I s'ppose staring at people while they're eating's ' lacking in manners' too. No, wait; staring at people _at all_ is considered 'lacking in manners'" He grinned at Baek's outraged look. " Gotcha, now we're even!"

A silence fell between the two, during which Baek sipped his tea and carefully studied his young charge.

"So," Hwoarang suddenly put his chopsticks down and lounged in his seat. " What are your big plans for me?"

"There are several, the first of which is to raise you to the level of sophistication adequate for a human being."

Hwoarang took a moment to process this. He could not think of a good enough comeback. " Man, you like to hear yourself talk, don't you?"

Baek grimaced and threw out his hands in mock frustration. " I rest my case." He then paid the check and they left.

Outside, the great din had not ceased; in fact the party seemed to be getting even rowdier. Hwoarang was not surprised; it was barely nine o'clock yet. He noticed that Baek had stopped dead, his eyes fixed on the spot where he had parked his bike. Hwoarang followed his gaze. "Umm, I'll try not to say ' I told you so' ," he said, grimacing at the sight of two punks from the club nearby retching all over Baek's bike.

" You two!" Baek called out, and his voice had a dangerous edge to it." You had better clean this mess this instant!"

They looked up, and one of them said in a slurred voice," Beat it, Gramps!"

" Whoa, I'd watch it if I were you," Hwoarang said, taking a step forward.

The other punk staggered drunkenly and squinted at him." Hey, isn't Red here one of 'em crack boys who got screwed down in Sing? I heard those triads are lookin' for his ass all over the place."

Hwoarang blinked, startled, but soon gathered his wits for a quick comeback. " Hey, punk," he taunted," how many fingers do you see?" He then flipped his middle finger up at the two drunks.

" Why you little-" Hwoarang smirked at their reaction, not caring what Baek would think.

" What the hell is going on here?" Everyone turned at the sound of this new, deeper voice. Hwoarang gulped. It belonged to Meat Carver, one of the most notorious gangsters in Chinatown. He was way over six feet tall and was toying with his infamous lethal blade.

Baek boldly stepped up to him." Your two underlings here need to repair the damage they caused."

The man spat at Baek's feet. " I don't think so, old man."

And suddenly, the place was teeming with gangsters cracking their knuckles. Hwoarang ducked out of the way and watched the brawl.

He was not sure what happened next, but he saw Baek unleash a vicious combo of lightning fast kicks, and then the gangsters were falling like bowling pins. Meat Carver charged Baek, but the latter dodged nimbly to one side and kicked the weapon out of his opponent's grasp, then, probably due to Meat Carver's collossal size, Baek resorted to to shoving his knee hard into the man's groin as a means of ending the fight. The man doubled over with an agonized cry.

" Well I hope you've had enough," Baek began with folded arms. " You there," he nodded towards two punks who were clumsily struggling to their feet." Have my bike cleaned while I talk things over with your superior here."

Hwoarang was ignored as the punks proceeded to do Baek's bidding and Baek himself retreated into a corner with the still-in-pain Meat Carver. Hwoarang vaguely wondered what Baek wanted to discuss with him.

Fifteen minutes later, they were good to go.

" Hmm, who knew they'd give it such a good shine?" Baek wondered.

" I'm famous now, aren't I?" Hwoarang asked." I mean, those punks knew me right away, and they were drunk and stoned as hell. Do you reckon what they said about the triads looking for me's true?"

"Take no notice of what they said. As you've bluntly put it, they were as drunk and stoned as hell."

"You fight real good, by the way... for a grumpy old man."

" Why thank you, and who knows, you might find yourself on the receiving end of one of my grander moves if you do not keep your tongue in check, young man."

Ouch, that hurt...

_Shopping Mall_

"Well," Baek said, glancing at his watch." Since these places stay open late into the night, I suggest you go purchase what you need, and shed this terrible outfit of yours. I won't be coming along; I have to place a few calls. Come find me when you're done." He handed Hwoarang a credit card.

Hwoarang did not waste this golden opportunity to get back at Baek. By the time he had emerged from the last shop, he was carrying an assortment of shopping bags and bills. He handed the bills to Baek, who gaped at them , and then at the products of Hwoarang's shopping spree.

" I think I specifically told you to get only what you NEED, not buy the whole place out!"

" True, and you said that what I needed was some ' sophistication', so I went and bought some hot Tees and Jeans, real cool Nikes trainers, several pairs just in case, other sportswear and accessories, and... gee, can't seem to remember the rest! But hey, check this out: A Hugo-Boss wallet!" He laughed at the incredulous look on Baek's face." Don't worry; it's a fake; good one though. It smells like real leather; not like the cheap ones you get in Chinatown! So, um, there goes my 'sophistication', but so does your cash, I guess!"

Baek did not know whether to laugh at Hwoarang's wit or strangle him for his cheek. He managed a tight smile.

" You've proved your point."

_**A/N: okay, that was looong, but funny, if I do say so myself. I can imagine Hwoarang driving Baek nuts!**_


	5. Chapter 5: The Wheels Are In Motion

**Chapter V: The Wheels Are In Motion**

_**A/N: I don't own Tekken or its characters**_

_**It was a long time, wasn't it? It's really mean**_

_**of me not to update fast, especially when I've**_

_**already finished the story and started working**_

_**on a sequel, but oh well, a bit of suspense**_

_**can't hurt. To Ninnis: Keefek habibti?Inshalla **_

_**3milti mnee7 fil imti7anat? **_

_**Hai hadiyyat al 3eed minni ilek. **_

_**3eed Mubarak!**_

Hwoarang shivered and watched with bleary eyes as his breath came out in a misty cloud. The ride to Baek's home was so long and the night air was so cold that he felt sure someone would have to unfreeze him from the bike. Now Hwoarang could hear the unmistakable sound of gates swinging open, and the next thing he knew was Baek helping him down and steering him along by the elbow.

Hwoarang was too drowsy to take in anything of his surroundings as Baek led him into his designated room. Baek shook his head as his young charge collapsed fully-clothed onto his bed, and fell into a deep slumber.

XXXXXXX

_Morning_

Hwoarang woke up fully rested and proceeded to piece together the events of the previous night. He then looked about his spacious bedroom and found his shopping bags stacked neatly by his bed. He raided them for a random outfit, then stepped into the adjoining bathroom for a quick shower, after which he decided to explore the house without waking up Baek.

As Hwoarang wandered down the corridors, he saw numerous doors to his left and right. He would pause for a few seconds, then he would try some of them. Most revealed rooms with expensive furnishings, and Hwoarang would find himself thinking, _for a gangster-turned-military-instructor he sure likes his comfort. _But the house had a distinct air of neglect, and when Hwoarang finally stumbled into the kitchen,the only item he found in the fridge was a bottle of mineral water. He cursed, then let himself out of the house through the kitchen backdoor, which was surprisingly unlocked.

Hwoarang was impressed at the size of Baek's grounds, even though they were mostly bare. He found a tool shed, and upon inspecting its contents, he came to the conclusion that Baek was a man who liked to work with his hands. But also lying within was a heavy, metal baseball bat, an incriminating piece of evidence to Baek's gangster past.

Hwoarang paused at a large wooden structure not far from the tool shed. Its windows were boarded up, and it was locked, so he lost interest and instead turned to inspecting the walls surrounding the grounds. They were not very high, and he was sure someone as agile as himself could easily vault over them. He did, just to prove he could, and he did not like what he saw on the other side.

A black sedan was parked suspiciously on the side of the dirt road. Inside, Hwoarang could make out two men. Were they bad guys or were they cops, he wondered, and had they been staking out the house the entire night?

The passenger's window slid down, and an Asian man with a huge grin plastered all over his face said jovially," Hey, awesome jump, kid! You're Hwoarang, right?"

Hwoarang was taken aback by the recognition. " Maybe I am," he replied warily.

The man chuckled." And maybe the guy living here goes by the name of Baek Do San. If he does, then I'd like to speak to him please."

Hwoarang said nothing, still suspicious. The man laughed again. " Oh, I get it! You're waiting for some sort of password! Well, I can tell you the old man has this tattoo on his back. Used to be a gangster, would you have guessed?" When Hwoarang looked stunned, the man continued," Oops, guess you're not in on the secret. Man, he's gonna kill me for telling ya!"

"Um, no offence, but who the hell are you?"

The man continued to grin as he stepped out of the car." Officer Lei Wulong at your service, kid!"

_Great, a cop!_ Hworang turned and easily found the doorbell. Baek's voice sounded sleepily over the intercom." Who is it?"

" Some Jackie Chan- wannabe-from-a-badly-dubbed-Chinese-movie here to see you, sir." Hwoarang reported.

Lei Wulong roared with laughter, then turned back to his Caucasian, white-haired partner." I'm going in, Bryan. Be back in a few minutes." The man continued to sit passively at the wheel.

XXXXXXX

" So that's what you've been doing, making all those calls last night!" Hwoarang fired at Baek as soon as he had led Lei Wulong into his mentor's study." You've been asking cops to stake out the house!"

"Lei's no cop," Baek replied in annoyance. " He's an Interpol Agent from Hong Kong."

" Oh? He's too damn fluent in Korean to be some dumb Chinaman," Hwoarang countered.

" It's in the job description, kid," Lei replied, grinning as he stopped Baek's fist from making contact with the boy's head. He soon sobered up, producing a set of coloured photos that chilled Hwoarang's blood.

" Yeah, photos from the scene where Kim and the boys were murdered. Not pretty. Evidence points towards the Triads; that's their signature." He pointed at the picture of Kim's lifeless form.

Hwoarang glared at Baek." You knew all along?"

Lei looked at him strangely. " Of course he knew, Hwoarang, and he contacted me as soon as he fetched you. It's looking real bad for you. Those guys aren't playing around."

" Funny, I kinda figured that out by myself," Hwoarang sneered.

" They were looking to kill the whole bunch of you down in Sing," Lei went on. "But you weren't there, Hwoarang, and now they want to finish what they started."

" But I don't get why they'd want to kill us all in the first place! Unless Master Kim crossed them or something..."

Lei and Baek exchanged looks." Actually," Lei began," We need you to answer that, Hwoarang, and it's part of why the Triads are after you anyway. They're bigshots when it comes to drug dealing, the Triads, and they have dominant markets everywhere, including here. Now, they could have taken out Kim to eliminate fierce competition, but that just doesn't check out." he sighed." We believe they were pals with Kim until he discovered something about them that made the higher ups decide to silence him."

" The higher ups?"

Lei sighed again." We believe the Triads are just hired grunts. Some other people call the shots. So, we need you to tell us : was Kim anxious prior to his death? Did he tell you something about his worries? You were his favourite; he could have told you something, and the bad guys are aware of this; that's why they want you silenced so badly."

Hwoarang attempted to familiarize himself with this horrifying scenario. He wracked his brain for any telltale detail about Kim he might have neglected in the past." I don't remember anything, and even if I do, why should I spill it? So I could be murdered in my bed? No thanks!"

Lei and Baek exchanged worried looks. "Look, Hwoarang," Lei began kindly," It's been taken out of your hands. My superiors at Interpol have already requested an interview with you, and I've been sent down here to fetch you."

" And if I don't come?" Hwoarang challenged.

" Then I'll have to place you in custody at a juvenile detention centre." He had an uncharacteristically grim expression. " I'm sorry."

XXXXXXX

_Interpol HQ in Seoul_

Hwoarang felt thoroughly betrayed all through his session with the psychiatrist who was to determine whether he was fit for questioning by the Interpol Agents. Betrayed by Baek, his rescuer, and by Lei, whom he was just beginning to warm to. After the session was over, he pushed past both of them, muttering irritably," Going for a soda."

Lei replied," Vending machines are on the next level. Don't be long. They want to get started in fifteen minutes."

XXXXXXX

Hwoarang got into the elevator, fuming, not bothering to look at the only other occupant of the elevator. As soon as the doors were closed, the man rounded on Hwoarang, grabbing him by the throat and pinning him savagely to the wall. Hwoarang gasped in pain and shock, and attempted to struggle but the man pressed a lethal looking blade to his neck. He was hooded so that the boy could not see his face, and his breath stank of some sort of alcoholic drink. When he spoke, it was in awful Korean.

" Keep your lips sealed, kid, or I'll slice up your liver and feed it to ya."

Out of pure desperation, Hwoarang glanced up at the security camera in the corner, and his heart sank like a stone. _Not blinking red. Not recording._

The man gave a nasty laugh and stepped out as soon as the doors reopened, leaving Hwoarang with a single, shocking realisation:

_They have a mole in Interpol._

XXXXXXXX

_**A/N: I know what you're all thinking: Bryan is NOT Lei's partner, but his nemesis. Well,(smirks), all I can say is : stay tuned for the next chapter! Oh, and also in the next chapter, we're going to find out something important about Baek, and we're going to see how Hwoarang reacts to **_ _**threats. And one more thing: I guess you were all surprised by Supercop's appearance. Well, ( another smirk), I have other characters' appearances in mind throughout this fic, and they're all central to the plot!**_

_**Well, enjoy the spoilers & don't forget to leave nice little reviews!**_


	6. Chapter 6: Hwoarang Fights Back

**Chapter VI: Hwoarang Fights Back**

_**A/N: When I own Tekken, you guys will be the first to know.**_

_**Looks like you guys are in for an early update, and all because**_

_**of the smashing reviews you gave me! I'll be sure to update **_

_**once a week from now on, but you have to promise to keep**_

_**those reviews coming, okay? As I said before, I finished**_

_**writing this fic; I just have to insert the author's notes and**_

_**press "Submit". To Ninnis: Rasamti H? Yarate a2dar **_

_**ashoofo!**_

_Interpol HQ in Seoul_

Hwoarang was soon reunited with Baek and Lei, and the latter briefed him as they made their way to the interrogation room on the ninth floor.

" Now, since Baek is your guardian, he'll be going in with you. If it gets too tough, he'll do the talking."

But the agents stationed at the entrance would not let Baek go in with his young charge, no matter how much Lei reasoned with them. Lei eventually gave up and turned to Hwoarang.

" I don't know what they're playing at. They can't force you to talk without your guardian present. You go in there, and do your best. Just don't lie, okay?" He ruffled Hwoarang's hair and watched the boy march to his doom.

XXXXXXX

Hwoarang perched tentatively on the edge of his chair and glanced at the grim-faced agents flanking his interrogator, an auburn-haired woman who managed to appear even more intimidating than her subordinates.

" State your name for the record," she began, her tone icy.

" Hwoarang," he replied in a small voice.

" Your age?"

" Twelve."

" You were a resident of Sing District, correct?"

" Y-yes."

" And your involvement in the District's drug operations?"

He hesitated, then hung his head and pretended to examine the shaking hands in his lap.

" Tell us about your people's link to the Triads."

In his mind, he heard the threat of the man from the elevator, and felt the rough fingers closing around his throat. He raised his tortured eyes to meet the cold ones of the interrogator." I'm sorry, Ma'am. I can't help you..."

XXXXXXX

After his interview was over, Hwoarang went to find Baek, only to stumble upon Lei having a heated debate with his interrogator. He flattened himself against the wall to eavesdrop.

" I was only doing my job," the woman was saying coolly.

" But this isn't right, Lana!" Lei fired back." He's just a kid, and you dragged him in without his guardian!"

" Baek Do San is not Hwoarang's guardian, and frankly I doubt he'll ever get custody of the boy, not with his record. The man killed his own _father_, for goodness' sake!"

That was all Hwoarang heard. He raced from the scene, his mind reeling.

XXXXXXX

Lei found Hwoarang on the second floor, sitting on a bench and sipping a soda.

" Hey, kid," he said." Sorry you had to go through that drill, but don't worry, I'll make Lana pay." He moved towards Hwoarang and pulled something out of the boy's hair.

Hwoarang looked up." You.. you actually _bugged _me?!"

" Yeah, a good cop has to bend the rules sometimes." he sighed. " This'll go straight to Lana's superiors, and they won't be too happy about her taking advantage of a kid."

Hwoarang found himself grinning reluctantly. It was hard not to like a man like Lei. " Hey, Lei, can I tell you something?"

" Sure thing, kid."

Hwoarang proceeded to tell him about the ambush in the elevator, and finished with his theory about the Interpol mole who had let the assailant in. Lei did not take it very well. He gave Hwoarang a strange look. " That's just... not possible."

" Fine..." Hwoarang said, jumping to his feet. " I ran smack into a wall and hallucinated!" He stormed off.

XXXXXXX

Hwoarang could not help thinking of what he had overheard about Baek all through their ride back home. " You're pensive," Baek noted. "You must be hiding something."

_Oh, look who's talking! _Hwoarang savagely thought, but he calmly answered," Yeah, it's that dragon lady. She looked like she was about one nano-second from sending me to jail."

" Don't worry about it."

XXXXXXX

Hwoarang was deeply worried. There was a crazy organisation out to kill him, the Interpol had been infiltrated, and he was living with a murderer. He had to take measures to ensure his own security.

Baek's house had three storeys, and Hwoarang's room was on the second floor. He made his way to the third level and inspected the bare attic room to be found there. He moved to look through its one, large window. If he ever had to jump from there, he would be in for a broken neck. The tall ash tree facing the window looked close enough, but he did not fool himself into thinking he could jump from the window-ledge to an overhanging branch. He smirked, nevertheless. He had a plan.

He found the equipment he needed in the tool shed and set to work. It took him less than an hour to nail a wooden plank onto the thickest branch he could find, and to practice crawling back and forth between the window ledge and the tree. His plan was reckless, but it was the only way to escape if he needed to.

XXXXXXX

Hwoarang was watching television. There were strange news reports of people turning up dead for no apparent reason in cities of Korea, China, Japan and even Russia. _Great, maybe I'll just drop dead too!_ Hwoarang thought. Just then, Lei came in, accompanied by his partner Bryan.

" Hey, I think I got us a lead on your case. I'm going to step out for a bit."

" Where's Baek?"

" Out on some business, but don't worry, Bryan here will keep you company."

XXXXXXX

Hwoarang was not at all happy about being under house arrest with some creepy-looking cop for company, so he figured he would make the most of it. He picked up the phone and riffled through the phone book.

" Pizza Hut? Yeah, I'd like to make an order on behalf of Mr. Bryan Fury. Yeah, you can put it on his tab..." Hwoarang smirked, and in only a short matter of time, he had managed to call every fast food delivery outlet he knew of in Seoul, placing large orders in Fury's name, and giving them Interpol HQ's address. When he was done with that, he went to find Fury, intent on giving him a strong dose of personal harassment.

XXXXXXX

Hwoarang listened through a crack in the door to Fury's whispered phone call.

" Yes, they're both out... the boy's here by himself... I will proceed as planned..."

Hwoarang let out a sharp intake of breath. _Bryan Fury, the Interpol mole?!_

Fury wheeled about at the sudden noise, and Hwoarang bolted.

XXXXXXX

_Great, just great, I swear I'm gonna kill those two!_

Hwoarang ran for it, taking cover in his own room. He could hear Fury approaching with slow leisurely steps.

" Come out, come out, Hwoarang, come out and play!"

Hwoarang desperately fished in his pockets and extracted a marble. He threw it with all his might into the room directly across from his. It caused a great clatter, instantly drawing Fury to it. The moment Fury was in that room, Hwoarang jumped to his feet and raced for the door, slamming it shut on the man and twisting the key, thus locking him inside.

" Kiss my ass, you traitor cop!" Hwoarang taunted through the keyhole, but yelled in shock when Fury's fist penetrated the heavy oak like it was cardboard. Hwoarang then dashed up the stairs(He figured Fury would have sealed off every other exit). He made it to the attic window, crawled on the plank to the other side, slid down the tree, and sprinted towards the tool shed._ The metal bat..._

He retrieved the weapon and lay in ambush behind the shed, all the while his heart hammering, the adrenaline rising.

" You sneaky little bastard," came Fury's voice from somewhere close.

_One.. Two.. Three!_

Hwoarang pounced with the bat, but Fury caught it and sent it flying out of his hands. He seized the boy by the throat and lifted him clean off the ground. Hwoarang choked and spluttered, then felt the cold barrel of a gun against his temple.

" Boom!" Fury yelled, and laughed maniacally as Hworang flinched in terror. " Game's up, kid..."

Suddenly, Hwoarang felt a great impact that sent him reeling away from Fury. He sat up to see Lei Wulong engaging his partner in combat.

" I knew it was you, Bryan," Lei was saying. "Poisonous toadstools don't change their colours!"

Lei put up a great fight but Fury's inhuman strength overpowered him. Soon he was down, with Fury bending towards him, closing in for the kill.

_Here goes nothing..._ Summoning all his remaining strength, Hwoarang sneaked up on Fury and slammed the metal bat on the back of his head. For one desperate moment, Hwoarang thought it hadn't worked, for the bat vibrated and fell out of his grasp, but the next moment, Fury slumped down, still as a stone.

Hwoarang helped Lei to his feet. The man was a bruised and battered mess, and he was clutching his stomach in pain.

" He dead?" Hwoarang asked.

"Y-you... wish... kid," Lei gasped.

" What the hell was his deal? He on steroids or something?"

" N..not ...really." He feebly kicked the baseball bat. " Fight metal... with metal..."

" So what made you suspect your own partner? I mean, you didn't believe me in the first place."

" I knew... Didn't want to... alert him."

There were sudden footsteps, and they found themselves surrounded by Interpol Agents dressed like members of a SWAT team. Most cornered the unconscious Fury, while two grabbed Hwoarang by the elbows.

" Thank you, we'll take it from here," their leader said." Hwoarang, you're coming with us, unless you want your butt locked up for obstruction of justice."

" Obstruction of justice, my ass! Lemme go, you meathead cops! I just caught your damn mole! Lei, do something!" But Lei could only look on helplessly as Hwoarang was dragged off, screaming in protest.

XXXXXXX

_**A/N: So the mole was Bryan. Guess most of you could see that coming! Oh, and before you people come at me with metal baseball bats for claiming that Baek committed the Mishima-ish crime of killing his father, know this: IT'S PERFECTLY CANON! Though done on accident of course.**_


	7. Chapter 7: Revelations

**Chapter VII: Revelations**

_**A/N: Tekken still belongs to Namco. So, so,so sorry for keeping you waiting, faithful readers. So here goes, and don't feel pressured to write reviews this time, since I went back on my promise :(**_

_Interpol HQ, Seoul_

"Obstruction?! You can't be serious!" Lei yelled in outrage.

" I've never been more serious, actually," the auburn-haired woman replied, adjusting her glasses. " That boy knows something, and he won't leave here until he comes forward with it."

" But you're going too far, Lana! First you drilled him like a seargent, and now this! He's just a kid!"

Lana eyed him frostily. " Desperate times call for desperate measures. We _need _to catch those people, and fast, before anyone else gets hurt."

" And what about Hwoarang?! He's at risk here! Those people want him silenced so badly, they dared to infiltrate the Interpol!"

Lana sighed. " I won't have you interfering, Lei, or pulling petty little tricks to try and discredit me in front of my superiors. You may be one of the best field agents out there, but you're still expendable as far as I'm concerned." And she pushed past an incredulous Lei.

XXXXXXX

Hwoarang was stuck in a cold little holding cell on one of the lower levels of the Interpol building. He had screamed himself hoarse, punched and kicked at the door, all to no avail, and he was now beginning to resign himself to his fate.

The sound of approaching footsteps stirred him from his morbid thoughts. He sat up in bed, listening to the series of metallic clicks that followed, and then the door swung open, revealing a harassed-looking Lei Wulong.

"Well, hop up, kid, unless you'd like to hang around here some more."

"They're releasing me?!" Hwoarang croaked in disbelief.

" Correction: _I'm_ releasing you, kid, or rather, busting you out, whichever term you prefer."

" But you'll be in for a load of crap."

" Yeah, well, I'm doing what's right." He suddenly grinned," and besides, it'd take them ages to figure out I did it, 'cuz when you've been in the system for the past thirteen years, you tend to master how to get around it. Now come on, there's someone you need to meet."

XXXXXXX

_Baek Do San Residence_

Baek met Lei and Hwoarang in the hall, and the boy was surprised at the sudden grimness that settled in the air.

" What's going on? And where were you when I was a nano-second from being murdered?" he shot at Baek.

" Never you mind," Baek replied briskly and then led them to a small storage room adjacent to the kitchen. It was cramped, but Hwoarang could make out a trapdoor concealed among the junk.

" I've stashed him down there, like we've agreed," Baek said.

" Stashed who?" Hwoarang interjected.

"You'll see," Lei said, as Baek opened the trapdoor and led them down a narrow flight of stairs into what seemed like a cellar. The interior was cold and damp, and a man could be seen sitting at a low table, reading by the light of a single candle.. Lei approached the stranger with Hwoarang in tow, while Baek preferred to lounge against the wall, arms folded.

" Hey, Doc," Lei greeted the man, who looked up.

" Good evening, Detective," he wheezed. Even by the dim light, Hwoarang could tell that he was very old, with a stooped, skinny frame, withered features, and a few patches of grizzled hair on his otherwise bald scalp. His eyes, though sunken, shone with an extraordinary intelligence behind the wire-rimmed glasses he wore, and he spoke in reasonably good Korean, albeit with a funny accent.

"I'm glad you managed to crack the encrypted message I sent you earlier, Detective," the man continued. " I know that by bringing me here, you're putting yourself at great risk, and I tell you from now that you're the only one I've trusted since the day you rescued me from that god-forsaken lab, thirteen years ago, and that the information I'm about to reveal has everything to do with the mess around this young man." He nodded towards Hwoarang, who blinked, startled.

Baek stirred in his dark corner, waving his hand nonchalantly. " You're quite safe here, Doctor. Even if the people after you tear this house apart, they'll be hard put to find your hiding place."

Hwoarang looked from Baek to Lei and back at the stranger. " Um, just who the hell is this old man and what the hell does he have to do with me?" he demanded.

Lei managed a small smile." Hwoarang, meet Dr. Boskonovitch, Russian Professor of Biogenetics and Biochemistry, and three-time Nobel Prize winner."

Hwoarang raised his eyebrows." Another foreigner who happens to know Korean?"

The old man chuckled. " I was in hiding in this country for the past six months. The least I could do is learn the language!"

Hwoarang frowned." You were in hiding from the Triads?"

" Not from the puppets, boy, but from the puppet-masters."

" And who might those be?" he retorted.

It was Baek who answered. " The _Streltsy_."

"_Streltsy_?" Hwoarang echoed blankly.

" Yes, a covert Russian organisation." He tilted his head towards the professor." Tell them what you told me earlier."

Doctor Boskonovitch sighed and pulled from the pocket of his frayed labcoat a series of recent newspaper clippings. Hwoarang scanned them briefly; they were consistent with the news reports he'd seen on television, about people dying of mysterious causes in Russia, China, Japan and Korea. The old man rapped the clippings with his knuckles." I'm afraid I'm partly to blame for this..." he began.

" What, you're saying you killed those people?" Hwoarang scoffed, but beside him, Lei let out a sharp intake of breath.

" Thirteen years ago, when I was still in the employment of the Mishima Zaibatsu, my partner Dr. Abel and I made several breakthroughs in the fields of biogenetics and cybernetics, but the most important and successful of our joint projects was the synthesis of the most toxic drug on this earth, which we named LDF. So lethal is this poison, that one-thousandth of a milligram, when ingested, would be enough to kill a full-grown man in a matter of minutes. But when injected, LDF has a different effect. It kills more slowly, by increasing the metabolic rate of the body so much, that the organs begin to cook up, and death becomes inevitable. In both cases, once the victim is dead, LDF decomposes into harmless substances in the body, rendering the cause of death unknown."

Hwoarang grimaced." Why are you telling me this?"

The doctor ignored the interruption." The Mishima Zaibatsu planned to use LDF in their biochemical warfare, which was one step further towards their goal of world domination. Of course, as any other rational scientists, Dr. Abel and I had already developed an antidote to LDF, but this soon proved unnecessary, as an abrupt change in the management of the Zaibatsu put an end to these insane plans."

Hwoarang threw up his hands in frustration." But what has this got to do with the Triads hunting me, and that Russian organisation?"

"Quiet!" Baek hissed, and Hwoarang obliged.

Dr. Boskonovitch took up his story." Six months ago, I was approached by representatives from a tightly knit Russian ' fraternity', an extremely radical political group that endorsed terrorism and anarchy- the _Streltsy_. Dr Abel, for reasons I may never know, had made them privy to our invention, and had agreed to mass-produce the drug for them with my help, and so they sought me out, and attempted to coerce my co-operation, but I wouldn't have anything to do with it, and so I've been on the run ever since."

Lei attempted to continue from there." So they manage to produce the drug, with Abel's help, and to distribute it, and now people are dying left, right and centre, which fulfills the _streltsy_'s desire for chaos, terror and anarchy, in preparation for world domination."

The doctor nodded." Exactly, the _streltsy_ are following in the footsteps of the late Kazuya Mishima, and they are using the Chinese Triads, the Yakuza and their own Russian Mafia to mass distribute the drugs, but I believe they ran into an unexpected problem in Korea."

Lei tried to fill in the gaps." Kim somehow finds out what they 're up to and decides to take advantage of it, so he blackmails them, but they're no pushovers, and they send in their hired Triad grunts to take him out."

Hwoarang bristled with indignation at this conclusion, and was about to protest it vehemently, but Baek beat him to it. " Kim was no petty blackmailer. He would never have stood watching while a global conspiracy passed right under his nose. He would have wanted it exposed at all costs." Hwoarang nodded fervently; yes, his master had been an honourable man.

Lei waved his hand dismissively. " Either way, they silenced him." He sighed. " The doctor's testimony isn't enough to nail these people, and that's where you come in, Hwoarang." He gave the boy a solemn look." We need you to remember anything Kim might have told you, anything he might have showed you, that could point us in the right direction."

Hwoarang paused, mulling it all over. Finally, he said, " So you need me to testify, don't you?"

Lei sighed. " Aren't you willing to do all it takes to avenge your master?"

The boy thoughtfully chewed on his bottom lip as he paced around. He turned back to face Lei, Baek and the doctor. He had a determined look on his face.

"I'm game..."

XXXXXXX

_**A/N: This isn't over, I assure you. Plenty of action to come!**_


	8. Chapter 8: A Parting of Ways

**Chapter VIII: A Parting Of Ways**

_**A/N: Still no luck with owning Tekken. **_

_**So I'm back with an update on this story, as part of the holiday special. **_

_**And you can brighten MY holidays with your feedback.**_

_Streltsy HQ in Seoul, 10:00 pm_

They were all gathered there, the nine _Streltsy_ executives, each occupying his designated seat around the long , rectangular conference table that stood in the middle of this huge, dimlit, circular chamber, with its stone walls and floors, and its Gothic statues that depicted various forms of monstrosities, none as terrifying as the Nine, sitting there with their faces swathed in darkness, awaiting their leader's word.

" I have just had word from one of our trusted informants that the position of our special mole had been compromised before he could accomplish his mission." The voice was cold, hard, exuding power and authority.

There was a restless rustle, but no-one else spoke.

" Clearly we have underestimated the boy; his resourcefulness and cunning are quite astonishing for someone his age, and while he still lives, our Cause remains in jeopardy. Something must be done..."

"It's all so simple, sir," a harsh voice declared. " We use the Dragunov; he has never failed the Cause. He will infiltrate the Interpol like a shadowy ghost and silence the boy once and for all!"

"Ah, but the boy is no longer in their custody. Detective Lei Wulong, of Hong Kong Interpol, specifically the Anti Terrorist Force, has released him, right under his superiors' noses. And with Boskonovitch's betrayal, and his past connection with Wulong, I fear we have little time. But there is always an answer: Terror." The others listened raptly."We strike pure terror in the boy's heart, we break him, and he is sure to make a mistake that will play him right into our hands. I want it done this way; I want to know the extent of his knowledge."

He pushed a control button and a screen came to life, and the Nine stared at various snapshots of a tall, stern-looking man in a beige suit and hat." We wil hit the boy where it hurts most. The Dragunov will do it."

XXXXXXX

_Sing District, Seoul, 8:00 am_

" Are you sure you wanna do this , kid?" Lei asked quietly for the hundredth time.

Hwoarang fidgeted in the passenger seat of the sedan, looking out the window at the deserted ghostville that used to be his lively home district. "Look, let's just get it over with," he muttered irritably. " It's not as if you haven't pushed me to do it in the first place." He stared hard at Kim's antique shop, still sealed off by yellow police tape.

Lei sighed." Right; just checking."

Hwoarang pushed open the car door and with one last look at Lei, marched off to meet the object of his nightmares.

He had known all along it would come to this: Him going back to the antique shop to open Kim's secret vault, the large well-concealed cavity in the wall that Kim had told him was to stash all their coke in the event of an emergency such as a police raid. _But what about other emergencies? Would he have left me something?_ he wondered. This really was his only lead, and if it failed, then the trail was dead cold. For real.

He unsealed it with trembling fingers and reached for the single envelope resting on the top shelf. Inside were two papers. He read the first.

_Dear Hwoarang_

_I know that by the time you have read this I will be dead, and you, with some calculation on my part, and luck on yours, will be alive and well, and in good hands, for I will never have your death on my conscience, boy. I beg you not to be angry with me, or to mourn me. I lived a crook, and died a crook, but for once in my life, I managed to do the right thing. And so should you._

_Farewell_

_Kim_

The tears were flowing freely, and when he became aware of them, he cursed colourfully and swiped at his eyes, before turning his attention to the second sheet of paper. For a moment, he gaped at it, not comprehending the intricate pattern of boxes and lines and arrows and scribbled letters. Then as his grief slowly ebbed away, and his mind began to whir, it dawned on him.

_It's a map! But where does it lead?_ Then again it clicked as he saw the words"_Warehouse District_' circled in blue in one corner, and the words"_ Streltsy DO"_ circled in red in another, signifying the start and endpoints of the map.

_DO! Drug Outlet!_ He scanned the map, his heart racing. Seoul's Warehouse District was a highly intricate maze, without the added complication that the location he sought was one that was wll-hidden, and invisible except to those who knew where to look. Plus the various obstacles along the way...

_Left ... right... right again... straight ahead... left corner... wall... damn.. damn... damn... it's too complicated!_

Then he remembered Lei, and quickly pocketed the map and went back outside. Lei said nothing as he noticed his red-rimmed eyes, just accepted the letter and read it. Finally, he said," That's all there is?"

"Yeah," Hwoarang replied flatly, looking him straight in the eye.

" I'm sorry."

He was met with a careless shrug.

XXXXXXX

_Baek Do San residence, 6:00 pm_

Hwoarang had spent the better part of the day committing the contents of Kim's map to memory, barely registering Baek, who constantly flitted in and out of the house, offering no explanation to his strange behavior.

When Hworang was sure he'd done his best, he went to the bathroom and flushed the map down the toilet, not wanting it to fall into hands other than his own, including the Interpol's. When he came out, Baek was waiting for him, arms crossed.

" What were you doing?" Baek asked.

" What did it look like I was doing?" Hwoarang retorted. He headed for his room, but Baek stopped him.

" Don't you take that tone with me, young man! I saw your master's letter, and I can tell that you're up to something. Why haven't you been forthcoming with me?"

Hwoarang buried his hands in his pockets, glaring resentfully." Now wait a sec, I can talk to you the way I want; you're not my master-he's dead. You didn't teach me everything I know, _he_ did. You didn't protect me from the Triads, _he_ did. You didn't take the Interpol off my ass, _Lei _did. You didn't save me from their damn mole, _Lei _did. So then, tell me, exactly _what_ do I owe you?!"

Baek's face was flushed an ugly red, his mouth a taut line, but Hwoarang ploughed on heedlessly. "You ask me why I'm not being _forthcoming _with you?! Heck, _I _should be asking _you _that! Oh, and by the way, did you kill anyone lately, besides your father, I m-" Baek's open palm slammed into Hworang's face. For a moment, they stood there, both looking incredulous, then Hworang massaged his cheek, tasting blood.

" Fine then," Hworang finally hissed. " since you've put it that way..." He pushed past him to his room, grabbed his prepared backpack and his new jacket, and stalked past Baek again, down the stairs, and into the hall, then out of the house, forcefully slamming the door behind him.

XXXXXXX

_**A/N: A bit too short, right? But don't worry, next update is sooner than you think. It's holiday season after all! **_

_**Please Read and Review!**_


	9. Chapter 9: Targeted,Trapped,Terrified

**Chapter IX: Targetted, Trapped, Terrified**

_**A/N: I don't own Tekken anymore than you do.**_

_**Hello again, fans of Hwoarang and action/adventure!**_

_**Told you I'm updating soon! R&R plz!**_

_Early evening, three days later_

Hwoarang stumbled along, keeping his head low and his face concealed beneath the hood of his jacket. He kept glancing furtively over his shoulder from time to time, his eyes wide and wary. Ever since that heated argument, Hwoarang had been constantly on the move, cautiously prowling the streets, barely sleeping, and doing so only in secluded corners of abandoned parks.

He gritted his teeth, recalling how he had woken up this morning to find his shoes and backpack missing, presumably stolen. He stopped and cursed as he trod on a shard of glass with his bare foot, then moved into the shadow of a tall building, hugging himself against the bitter cold, bottom lip quivering.

He now began to wonder, for the umpteenth time that day, whether he had made the right choice. Running out on Baek and Lei had seemed like a good idea at the time- certainly, he was tired of Baek's lofty, I'm-in-charge attitude, of Lei's link with the Interpol, which had brought him nothing but trouble. But, if truth be told, that was not his main motive for splitting.

Fact was, Hwoarang had had time to realise that he was playing a dangerous game, floundering in a murky lake, the bottom of which he couldn't see, and he had no intention of dragging down innocent people, like Baek, Lei and that scientist whose name he couldn't remember, with him. That was why he'd taken off; the knowledge he was now privy to was dangerous. He still regretted his rudeness and ingratitude to Baek, but that was necessary. He didn't want Baek to remember him fondly; he didn't want the man to miss him if the _Streltsy_ finally got him...

_Master Kim left me a job_, Hwoarang thought, again and again._ To "do the right thing". Nobody can help me now, not Baek or Lei. I'm on my own._ But soon shadows of doubt marred his certainty. What if Kim got it all wrong on his map? What if it didn't lead to the _Streltsy_'s drug outlet after all? If that was the case, and hope surged through him at the thought, then the heavy yoke the _Streltsy_ and Interpol had over his head would be lifted, for surely, the knowledge he had would then be meaningless...

Should he go scout the place out, to make sure Kim got his facts right? Or should he just keep moving, and hope they'd never find him? Hwoarang agonised over the decision, and was overcome by tears of hopelessness, coupled with the knowledge that he had once again been betrayed by the Interpol.

For it was mere hours after he had run away, that an unnamed source within the Interpol had leaked information to the local authorities and the press regarding his disappearance. The media referred to him as "a material witness", and he found his face all over National TV. He had officially become a marked man.

XXXXXXX

Hwoarang glanced listlessly at the widescreen television that happened to sit on display at the front of an electronic hardware store. He moved closer as he heard the music that heralded the news, and held his breath as the anchor lady announced,"_Breaking news,"_then plunged into the story.

_"There has been a serious breach of security at a press conference held in front of the Seoul Interpol HQ this afternoon. A man, who was described as having been standing on the sidelines, was shot dead, right after the meeting commenced. The lone assassin, believed to be a sniper, is yet to be apprehended. More details as we..."_

But the rest of the sentence was drowned as Hwoarang gaped at the victim's picture being displayed onscreen. _BAEK?!_ An icy hand began to claw at his heart as the words "_shot dead"_ echoed in his mind. A filmy mist descended over his eyes, and the ground rushed up at him. A stranger caught him, steadied him, said words he couldn't hear. In slow, painstaking motion, Hwoarang yanked his elbow away and trusted his bare feet to take him as far away from the scene as possible...

XXXXXXX

Once he had regained possession of his senses, Hwoarang realised that his subconscious had brought him to the one place where he could find answers, for he was standing on the outskirts of Seoul's Warehouse District. For a moment, he just stood there, and tried to banish the last conversation he had had with Baek, and the subsequent guilt, from his mind and soul. But then reason finally caught up and Hwoarang was thinking, _what the hell was Baek doing out there anyway? Looking for Lei?_ Somehow he doubted it. He took a deep breath, then plunged into the maze.

XXXXXXX

At first he made fair progress, but then his grief prevented his memory from bringing back the most complex details of the map, and he found himself hitting dead ends and running in circles. He gnashed his teeth in frustration, then retraced his steps to a delapidated old office building, whose rooftop he knew would provide him with an excellent view of the whole district.

He scaled a high wire fence, swearing as it caught the knee of his new jeans, then dropped onto the other side. He found the office building, and tried the main entrance. Locked. No big surprise. He took the fire escape instead and was soon clambering onto the roof. He perched on top like a bird of prey and contemplated the view. A slow grim smile spread across his lips. Yes, he knew where to go now; it was so easy to tell at that height and from that angle...

He stood up and headed for the old elevator, not relishing the prospect of using the fire escape all over again. His smile evaporated as the elevator gave an unexpected _chink_ and its doors swung open, to reveal a tall figure swathed in a long, swishing coat. There was something about the stranger, perhaps his waxlike face, of a deathmask quality, or his pale luminous eyes, or even his lips, twisted into a thin line resembling a knife slash, that sent jolts of terror running down Hwoarang's spine, and in an instant he knew with an awful certainty that he had to get away, but instead he remained rooted to the spot, mesmerised by the hypnotic qualities of the man's eyes. The man had covered most of the distance between them in two, quick silent strides, before Hwoarang ran for it.

He pelted away from the stranger, only to feel himself plummeting downwards, as the wire mesh he'd stepped on gave way, and he fell ten feet into an exhaust shaft and landed with a sickening thud, the wind almost knocked out of him, experiencing a searing pain in his left arm, which lay mangled beneath him. With a light leap, the stranger soon joined him in the pit, and chose to watch his pitiful attempts at crawling away, before he rolled him onto his back with his black boot, again surveying him with those lifeless eyes...

The man then withdrew a syringe filled with a murky fluid from an inner pocket of his coat, and Hwoarang let out a strangled yell, for he had guessed what was in it, as the man bent to his level, and with slow, dreamlike movements, like the grim reaper he was, seized Hwoarang's wrist with his cold, pale, long-fingered hand, wrenched back his sleeve, and pumped him full of the stuff.

The man stood up, drew back, a strange wraith illuminated by the tiny sliver of sky visible from within the shaft, then he was gone. Hwoarang was left in a sickening sweat, and he felt his body burning, his organs beginning to cook up, as the foul fluid penetrated further into his veins. He lost control of his limbs, which twitched grotesquely, and then his face began to contort, and his whole body experienced wracking seizures, a single sentence from a past life ringing in his ears:_ Once the victim is dead, LDF decomposes into harmless substances in the body, rendering the cause of death unknown._

_Please, let it stop!_ He begged the higher powers above, as his agony intensified. _So I can see Baek again..._

XXXXXXX

_**A/N: Wow, Hwoarang's in a real sticky spot! And is Baek really gone? Find out next chapter!And Happy Eid and Merry Christmas to all!**_


	10. Chapter 10: Endings and Beginings

**Chapter X: Endings And Beginnings**

_**A/N: This is it, people! It all ends here! And I still don't own Tekken.**_

He had been silenced, neutralised, blasted into oblivion, so then why was he still able to feel so much agonising pain? He wished to heaven that it could lift, as the dense darkness that engulfed his vision gave way to a filmy mistiness, and he knew he was lying in bed in some dark room, but he couldn't be sure, as his head throbbed painfully and every nerve still burned.

Dimly, he saw someone sitting by his side, watching as he came to, and for a single panic-filled moment, he was unable to identify the person. Then-_Lei!_ He tried to shout out his name, but ended up mouthing soundlessly. Lei smiled at him and began to speak, adopting the soothing tone to be used at the bedside of a very sick person.

"You won't be able to talk . Blink once if you can hear me." Hwoarang obliged, straining his ears as he did, for Lei's words sounded so faint, like they came from the end of a distant tunnel, and even his vision of him was somewhat blurred. "And you won't be able to hear or see all that well either." Lei turned to an approaching figure, and Hwoarang heard the wheezy voice of Dr. Boskonovitch.

" Ah, and how are we feeling today, young man?"

_Like I've been run over by a truck, _Hwoarang thought, and suddenly saw that his left arm was in a sling.

" I pulled you out of that exhaust shaft, kid," Lei said with a heavy sigh." I knew what they'd given you, and Dr.B had the antidote, but we feared we were too late. You know, you've been out for five days, and we thought that you'd sustained heavy neural damage, paralysis even, but you sure look good to me," he sounded vastly relieved, and his voice rose an octave.

Hwoarang had a thousand questions, and Lei was eager to provide answers. " You lied to me, kid," he suddenly accused with a frown. " About what you found at Kim's. Could have cost you your life. But at least _someone _knew real well how you'd think, knew you'd pull that running rabbit act, and made sure we were able to follow you."

Hwoarang had a flashback of Baek striking him._ Could he have...?_ Lei confirmed his suspicions." Baek put a tracer bug on you, when, you know, he hit you...Wish I could have followed you straight, but Lana had it in for me, you know, for busting you out, so I was detained in HQ for a while. And then someone on the inside leaked out the news of your disappearance, and both Baek and I knew you'd be watched and targeted. Now Baek..." he sighed, shaking his head, and Hwoarang didn't want to hear the rest. " He was mad as hell at Lana for allowing the leak, and he wasn't in custody like me, so he went to that press conference Lana held, figured he should give her a piece of his mind... I s'ppose you know what happened next..."

Hwoarang nodded. He knew all right. _Shot dead._ His pain increased tenfold.

"Now that's where you're wrong, kid," Lei replied with a sly grin." See, they wanted to scare you into doing something stupid, now that you were on your own. They figured they'd be sending a message by killing Baek. Now, we kinda figured out what they'd do, not that hard really, 'cuz I've been up against worse villains like the Mishimas since forever. So we took precautions..." he chuckled." Baek was wearing a bulletproof vest when he went down. Now, I knew that, and Lana knew that, but I didn't think it would do for the _Streltsy_ to know that."

Hwoarang found himself grinning too, and he felt light-headed all of a sudden." Then Lana and I spent some time spitting at each other, and then I was allowed to go after you. Oh, and the _Streltsy_ most probably think you're dead. They wouldn't come back to remove you; they figure when your body was eventually found, people would think your death was a result of exposure or starvation in that pit. Yeah, so we have a little breathing room, before Lana comes to you for the truth."

XXXXXXX

_Three days later_

Hwoarang had recovered his strength and his voice, and he now sat in bed, facing his visitor. Lana was equipped with a pen, a pad and a tape recorder and was listening to his account of events. When he reached the part about the map, he asked for the pad and pen and sketched it from memory, having no trouble whatsoever with the details this time. "Better bust this place up, Ma'am," Hwoarang told her, indicating the _Streltsy_ drug outlet on the map. She nodded, then slid a picture from her briefcase onto his bed. Hwoarang visibly recoiled.

"I take it that this is the man who attacked you on that rooftop?" she said.

"Y-yes." He averted his eyes from the lifeless ones of the man in the photo.

"So then, you will not mind testifying to that and to the rest of the details, in a hearing this afternoon?"

A voice rang out," If you intend to drag him out there without his guardian, then actually, yes I _do_ mind."

Hwoarang's heart raced. He shakily got to his feet and walked over to meet the man- Baek.

Lana stood up and stared him down." His guardian?"

Baek thrust an official-looking document in her face in response. She gave it a precursory look, nodded curtly at Baek and left the room.

Now the two of them were alone.

"So..." Baek began mildly. Hwoarang sighed and decided to get it over with.

" Look, I'm sorry, okay?"

" And so you should be. However, if it wasn't for your outburst, I wouldn't have had an excuse to strike you, and plant that tracing device on you in the process. And I must say, a foul liar though you are, you have been shown to possess immense reserves of inner strength. I bow to your courage." And so he did.

Hwoarang was uncomfortable. " I did it for Master Kim..."

" Yes, well, " Baek sighed. " This is the part where I extend to you a formal invitation. If you are willing to forget Kim and the old life, that is." He handed Hwoarang the document he'd shown Lana. It was a certificate of adoption. By its terms, Hwoarang would become Rang Do San. So now, he had an official father figure and a home.

"Wow..." he muttered.

" Obtaining this was exceptionally hard, what with my prior records." Baek sighed again."_This_ is what I've been working on during the time I was being distant with you. Fighting it out in court is no mean feat, I must say...And... I also feel that I owe you an apology. You were ultimately right. How can I expect you to be forthcoming with me, when I'm not as honest with you?"

XXXXXXX

_Baek Do San Residence, Next Day_

The hearing had gone rather well, except for the fact that when Hwoarang and Baek left, they were swarmed by reporters. Now, Hwoarang put it past him as he followed Baek across the grounds to that wooden structure beside the tool shed, the one with the boarded up windows.

" I haven't been in here for many years," Baek told him as he unlocked the door and led him inside." Not since that night..."

Through the dust and dimness, Hwoarang could tell that this place had once been a training dojo. He glanced at the mats on the floor, the scrolls on the walls, and noticed something large propped up on the floor, against the wall, and covered by a sheet of black canvas. Baek lifted the sheet with a sigh and Hwoarang saw an old portrait of a man greatly resembling his master.

"Your father?"

"Yes." A minute's silence." You must understand that it was an accident. We were sparring, and I got... carried away..."

"I'm... sorry." The apology sounded lame in his own ears, but Baek seemed to think otherwise, smiling sadly.

"Yes, I... could never forgive myself... I locked this place up, and, uh, I self-destructed, for lack of a better term...I did things, things I'm not proud of, but... your Master Kim saved me. After he found out, he, uh, said I shouldn't be punishing myself, that I had my whole life ahead of me, and that unlike him, I still had a choice. He threatened to kill me if I didn't back out, start a new life, and so, here I am..."

Hwoarang's admiration and affection for Baek soared. It had probably taken him a great deal of strength to come clean like that.

"Perhaps, considering what I've just said," Baek continued." You might not find me worthy of instructing you in our family's art of Tae Kwon Do, but I would be honoured to do so all the same."

"And I'd be even more honoured to learn from you," The words were out of Hwoarang's mouth before he knew it, and he bowed in deference. They went back outside.

" Hey, kid!" It was Lei, waving to him from the main gate. Baek nodded at Hwoarang and the boy went to greet the detective.

"How's that arm, kid?" Lei asked when they were face to face.

"Great. Thanks."

"Check this out." He handed Hwoarang a rolled up newspaper and when the boy unfolded it, he found his picture splashed all over the front page with a title that screamed," SING DISTRICT MASSACRE SURVIVOR BRINGS DOWN LETHAL DRUG OPERATIONS IN SEOUL." There was no mention of the _Streltsy_, and Hwoarang was not surprised. That was classified information, and so the Triads took the blame for everything, including the attacks on Baek and him. At least the public got to know about LDF and its horrific effects, and that Hwoarang was the only victim to have taken it and lived to tell the tale.

"Celebrity status, kid," Lei said, grinning." All those reporters from yesterday, and even foreign ones, they jumped me when I was coming here, gave me their cards and asked for exclusive interviews with you."

Hwoarang whistled."Wow..."

"Yeah..." A slight pause." So, um, I guess this is it, Rang Do San," he smiled, extended his hand. Hwoarang shook it heartily." Been nice knowing you, kid."

"Nice knowing you too, Lei. So, um, are you still in trouble?"

"Oh, yeah, Lana got me relieved from my duties here in Korea, and suspended from the ATF; the Anti Terrorist Force." He waved his hand dismissively. " But I guess it's alright, as long as people like Bryan remain locked up." He smiled suddenly. " Guess it's back to being the old Jackie-Chan-wannabe down in Hong Kong. I miss those days!"

Hwoarang returned the smile." Whatever gets you through the night, Lei, but I gotta say, you're one helluva super cop!"

"Thanks, kid. I feel real bad that most of those _Streltsy_ clowns are still at large. Including the one who attacked you. Be careful, won't you?"

"Whatever. They wanna have another go at me, then bring it on!" He had thought about it last night, after the hearing, and knew that those people would want revenge on conclusion: _If it's gonna happen, then it's gonna happen, and when the time comes, I'll be ready..._

**The End**

_**A/N: I want to thank all of you who have followed Hwoarang's adventure, and who have given me their unwavering support. Thanks a million, this would never have been accomplished without you people, and so as a treat I am announcing the title and plot summary and providing a sneak preview of the sequel to this story.**_

**Strange and Sinister:**_ Three years have passed. Hwoarang is now older, stronger and wiser, but his fifteenth summer brings with it a series of strange and sinister events..._

**Sneak Preview:**_ Hwoarang and his younger charge stood panting on the pavement. They shivered ifrom the strange chill, and tried to blend in with the crowd of passersbys. Hwoarang's cellphone vibrated, and he reached for it._

_"Don't!" The girl said in an undertone, genuine fear in her eyes. He ignored her and took the call._

_"Hello?" he said tentatively_

_A cold voice he did not recognise said," Rang Do San?"_

_"Just who the hell are you, people?" He hissed, peering wildly through the unseasonal mist at the towering office buildings of Tokyo._

_"Never you mind. We just want you to know: As of now, you and your little cronies are officially dead."_

_And the line went dead._

_"Who was it, and what do they want?" The girl asked, her bottom lip quivering._

_He managed a shaky smile. No use panicking now. " Just some concerned neighbours, reminding us that we're out there in the open with a bull's eye on our backs." He turned away from her, once again scanning the surrounding vicinity, and as he did, his wan smile twisted into a fearful grimace..._

**Coming soon, only on FF/net**


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